Page 46 of The Art of Being a Psychopath

As I stalked out of the building and walked into the crisp morning air, I told myself over and over, ‘This has to be the end of it. No more. I can’t take anymore’.

It had to be the end?

Right?

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

EMMA

Isent a message to Grace, telling her I quit my job, and asking if it was okay to stay a little longer on her sofa. I knew she’d be fine about it, but I needed to make her aware of what was going on. She didn’t text back right away like she normally did, but I figured she was busy at work. She’d reply when she had the chance.

I didn’t have a key to her apartment. Walking to her office was out of the question, too. It was about twenty miles away and in the middle of nowhere. The last place I wanted to go was my own home, after what’d happened. So, I decided I’d find a warm coffee shop to hide in until I could figure something out.

And then I remembered Alex Kingston, and my two o’clock appointment. I had to message to cancel.

Good morning, Mr. Kingston

I’m so sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel our appointment today.

I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you too much.

Please accept my heartfelt apologies.

Regards, Emma Belmont.

Instantly, the three dots danced to show he was responding.

Emma, that’s an awfully formal message. You know you can call me Alex. Can I ask why you have to cancel?

I debated making something up to save my bruised ego and protect my pride, which was taking an almighty battering right now.

After umming and ahhing over my reply, I went with honesty.

I no longer work for the Merivale Echo, so I wouldn’t be able to write the article for you. I can recommend someone to speak to if you’re still interested in pursuing the story.

It was starting to rain, so I huddled in the doorway of an old furniture shop that’d closed down years ago and failed to reopen. Posters discoloured by the sun were still stuck in the window, advertising a sale with seventy-five percent off. I felt about as empty as this shop as I shivered in the cold. Then my phone chimed with a new message.

That happened quickly. Where do you work now?

Again, I thought about making up some bullshit story about leaving for a better opportunity. But what was the point? He’d find out the truth soon enough.

I had a few issues with management, and I quit. I’ll take the time inbetween jobs to rethink my career plan.

His response came instantly.

That doesn’t surprise me. Your boss is an ass, and you have integrity. I’d still like to keep our appointment, though. Maybe I could help with your career plan?

I really didn’t want to meet anyone today, especially Alex Kingston. I wanted to hide away from the world and lick my wounds.

The rain was coming stronger now, lashing down as I took refuge under a useless canopy that provided no shelter. My hair was wet and plastered to my head. Not a good look. I knew my mascara was probably running down my face, making me look like a panda, and a crazy one at that. And that was before I’d factored in my spiralling mental health and impending breakdown. Yep, I was definitely not in a fit state to see anyone.

I appreciate the offer. Thank you. But I won’t be able to attend.

I thought my reply was pretty clear. That he’d leave it at that and move on.

But he didn’t.